


Key to the Heart

by Thephantominthemists



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 13:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16242668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thephantominthemists/pseuds/Thephantominthemists
Summary: A Young demoness and her father arrive in Japan from a far off land, carrying with them an ancient power that they are sworn to protect. How will she effect and influence the events in Sesshomaru's life and how will he change hers. Starts before cannon and continues through The Final Act.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To everyone who follows me, I know I have two other stories to work on but this one just would not leave me alone. Please bear with me.
> 
> To everyone else I hope you enjoy this story. The beginning of this story is not set in Japan, so that is why the names are different. We will get there.
> 
> Also I do not own anything belonging to Inuyasha. I only own my OCs. Please review to let me know how I did. I love constructive criticism.

## Prologue

            The Heart has been protected by my family for the last ten generations. The true story as to how my ancestors came into possession of it has long been lost to history. Most believe that it was gifted to them by the Creator as a reward for their unselfish, noble, and self-sacrificing spirit. This is the most popular story, as it is further bore out by my family’s good reputation among our peers. However, there are others, ones who typically have a grievance, however insignificant, against my family, who believe that my ancestors stole the Heart as part of the conquest of our home, the Emerald Isle.

            What we do know about the Heart is that it is very powerful, has a consciousness and will all its own, and, most importantly, must be protected. The protection of the Heart falls to the Keeper and the Key. The Heart dictates who can be its protectors and chooses them from each generation. The Keeper must be one of my family line or mated to one, while the Key can be anyone selected by the Heart that shows the same characteristics that my ancestors showed, though the Heart prefers the Keeper and Key to be a mated pair, as the bond strengthens the protections. 

            The Keeper is usually a son of the line, though not necessarily the first born, as was the case of my father who was the second born son, but chosen to be Keeper by the Heart, and is the one ultimately charged with the protection of the Heart and the judicious wielding of its power. Whereas the Key is usually his mate, as was the case with my mother, is responsible for maintaining the purity of the Heart’s sanctuary and the barrier surrounding it.  Each checks the other, neither having complete power over the Heart. The Keeper can wield the power of the Heart; but cannot enter the sanctuary nor have contact with the Heart without the Key. On the other hand, the Key controls access to the Heart but cannot wield any of its power without the Keeper.

            So the responsibility of Keeper has been passed down from father to son for ten generations coming finally to my father. Some people have called the responsibility a blessing and others a curse, but Father has called it a little of both because, as with any object of power, many battles have been fought over the years trying to wrest the control of the Heart from my family. Sadly many of the battles have been waged from within, brought by family members who believed they should have been the new Keeper and coveted the power of the Heart. Such was the case with my uncle, Father’s older brother.

            When they were presented to the Heart for the trials, it chose Father causing a rift between the two. My uncle’s arrogance could border on cruelty according to many, so it was great blow to his pride, so sure was he that he would be chosen as the next Keeper over his quieter brother, but while Grandfather was alive he would not dare to challenge the choosing. So for the better part of a thousand years his anger festered into bitterness and near insanity over his jealousy of Father’s seeming charmed life. Finally, Grandfather could no longer bear the subtle undermining of Father by my uncle, that he gave him an ultimatum: Either support his brother or leave, as Father would be Keeper when Grandfather stepped down. This ultimatum seemed to be the last straw for my uncle’s pride and he left the Emerald Isle with threats that he would return for what was rightfully his.  

            Five hundred years passed and everyone forgot about my uncle’s threats, chalking it up to his hurt pride and assumed he would come back to the family fold eventually. Over the years things just seemed to get better for my father. Mother, who he had been betrothed to since before the choosing and had mated shortly afterward, gave birth my older brother, me, and my younger brother. Both of my brothers were rare dragon demons like Father, however I took after Mother, a more common shape shifter. Demons from far and wide came to meet Grandfather and his heir, and to observe the lush paradise that was Grandfathers lands thanks to the power of the Heart.

            Little did we know that these good times would not last long. First Grandfather became ill and it became clear that he was nearing the end of his long life, having just passed ten thousand years old, passing his own father by one hundred years as the oldest living member of our family. He passed the responsibility of Keeper to Father but did not last long after. With the passing of Grandfather, Grandmother passed the responsibility of Key to Mother, knowing that her mating bond with Father would keep the protections for the Heart strong, and retired to peacefully enjoy her twilight years, being eight thousand years old herself.

            However, peaceful was not what the next few years would hold. Evil was on the horizon and tragedy was about to tear our idyllic lives apart .

# Chapter 1

## The Emerald Isle

*****Mary POV*****

I awoke to the sound of a loud roar and the walls shaking under the assault of heavy objects. I sat straight up in bed, peering into the darkness, unsure as to what was going on, thinking it was an earthquake. A moment later my handmaid came bursting through my door without knocking and that was when I know something was terribly wrong.

“Lady Mary,” the handmaid, a tall, thin, crane demon, exclaimed, “You must get up! Quickly now!”

 “Cara,” I gasped, swinging my legs over the side of the bed as she ran to my dressing room, “What is going on?”

“The castle is under attack, My Lady!” she yelled as she came running out with my dressing gown in hand,

“Your father is holding them off, but you must get to a safe place.”

            Her words froze me in place for a moment, causing her to sigh in exasperation before coming over and pushing the dressing gown around my shoulders.

“My Lady,” Cara exclaimed in a firm voice, the very same one I remember from when she was my nursemaid during my first century, “Come on!”

Cara grabbed my arm, shaking me out of my shock, and we started running for the door. Unfortunately, we only made it half way before a bright, golden colored, light flashed through the curtained window on the other side of the room and blinded us. Suddenly there was a loud sound, somewhere between a scream and a roar, and the window exploded inward, throwing rocks and glass all over us.

            As the dust began to settle, I turned to see a huge, black, scaly, dragon’s head where my bed used to be. Had it not been black I would have thought it was my father in his true demon form. Then Cara began to struggle frantically to force the door open that had been pinned by the large stones of the wrecked wall as the black dragon began to growl and struggle to get free. Finally, Cara got the door open a little bit just as the dragon opened its bright, red, eyes. As its gaze fixed on me, I froze in fear until I felt Cara grab me by the back of my dressing gown.

“Lady Mary,” she yelled and pushed me through the small distance that she had managed to force the wedged door open just as the dragon lunged at us, “RUN!”

Just after I squeezed through the small crack the door slammed shut and Cara’s yell was cut off abruptly.

“Cara!” I screamed and pounded on the door, “NO!!!” But the door did not open again and Cara was gone.

I slid down to my knees in shock with tears running down my face, unable to understand how I could have been peacefully sleeping less than five minutes ago and now a demoness that had cared for me my entire life was most likely dead on the other side of that door. So great was my shock that I did not hear the footsteps approaching until someone grabbed me by my shoulders. Fueled by fear and shock, I jumped to my feet and swung around on them with my claws unsheathed.

“Mary,” a familiar voice yelled, “Stop!”

“Patrick!” I exclaimed, recognizing my older brother.

Patrick was a hundred and fifty years older than me, having just passed his three hundredth year, was tall with light brown hair, bright, blue eyes and had emerald green scales running down both sides of his face marking him as a dragon.

“Come on,” he said placing his arm around my shoulders and led me away.

It was in that moment that I realized that he was surrounded by five other guards. Seeing them, I felt my fear ratchet up even higher as the castle shook mightily sending us stumbling into the wall. Patrick quickly pulled me back upright and as we continued to run down the hallway I told him what had happened to Cara.

“I’m sorry, Mary,” he responded heavily as we paused at a corner, “I know she was your friend.”

I turned to look at him, about to ask him why this was happening, when in that moment two guards came flying around the corner.

“Not that way!” one exclaimed, out of breath, “Intruders have breached the castle! Take them another way!”

“That bloody traitor must have told them about the secure passages!” the other growled.

We turned and ran farther into the bowels of the castle. Through twisting and turning servants passages were I had never been before. Then, suddenly, we were attacked by a group of warriors in all black armor. Patrick pushed me down and released thin slices of fire from his claws, raking them across one attackers face. The warrior backed off clutching his face as Patrick grabbed me by the arm and we both turned and ran toward the end of the hall.

We swung around the corner to find a room with a heavy wooden door. We ran in, shut the door and pinned it closed with a heavy wooden table.

“What’s going on?” I asked my brother frantically, “Why is this happening?”

“I don’t know,” Patrick answered, “Something about our uncle.”

“Uncle Ciaran?” I asked. I knew the story, everyone knew the story. I started to tremble as I thought about the black dragon, Uncle Ciaran was supposed to be a black dragon. The first one born in over ten generations, since our first ancestor who originally was bequeathed the Heart.

_“Where are we?"_ I thought looking around the small room, taking in the large, steel tubs and washboards hanging on the walls.

“This is a laundry room,” I said answering my own question.

Patrick turned in a complete circle, taking in the room.

“What do we do now?” I asked fearfully listening to the sounds of the battle just beyond the door.

“I don’t…” he began, sounding just as scared I was, before being stopped by a loud _thump_ on the other side of the door.

“Wait…” Patrick said running to the back wall while I stood staring at the door as the pounding continued and the door began to shake on its hinges under the assault.

“Mary,” Patrick called and I turned to see him prying an iron grate off of a vent midway up the wall that allowed fresh air into the room, “Can you fit in there?”

“If I shift I can,” I replied rushing over to him seeing a problem immediately, “But you can’t.”

“I’ll be alright,” Patrick said, urgently pushing me toward the wall as the door began to give way, “You just get in there and try to find Father and Mother, then they will come and find me.”

“But…” I tried.

“For once don’t argue with me!” Patrick exclaimed, fear evident in his voice and it was then I knew the truth, I could see it in his eyes, he wasn’t expecting to get out of here.

I nodded my head with tears in my eyes and shifted into one of the first forms I had learned: a small, black, cat. Patrick then lifted me up and I crawled into the vent.

“Go!” Patrick yelled as the door finally gave way.

I ran through the vents as fast as I could while keeping my head low, the sounds of the fight and Patrick’s battle cry fading behind me. The vents twisted and turned, sloped up and down, until I was completely lost. Using my nose, I scented the air and tried to find my way out. Finally, a stream of fresh air filtered through the dank, stale, air, carrying with it a familiar scent.

_“Father,”_ I thought in relief and followed the scent until I came to another grated vent.

Looking out I could see that this vent was over the east side gardens. I could see a large gathering of people down below, while not the huge army I was expecting it still scared me.

Looking around, I could see people from the castle and town nearby scattering, running to get away from the large group. However, I did not see Father and this confused me as I knew I had followed his scent. So I crept closer to the grate, thankful for the black fur of this form that hid me in the darkness, and pressed my face against the grate, trying to see further down. Then, suddenly, a blur of black and gold flew by with an ear splitting roar. I stumbled back with a loud _hiss_ , my heart beating out of my chest, before realizing what it was. Two dragons, one gold and the other black, in a brutal fight in the skies above the castle.

Recognizing the golden dragon as my Father in his true form, I crept closer to the grate, growling lowly in my throat, and watched in horrified fascination. They flew at each other with snapping teeth, unsheathed claws, and large spouts of fire. The black dragon tried to side swipe Father, but he swung around and caught it by the crook of its wing. However, before Father could do any lasting damage, the black dragon closed its jaws on Father’s left hind leg. Father let loose of the black dragon’s wing with a mighty roar before swinging his tail and catching the black dragon in the chest and getting his leg free. The black dragon tumbled through the air briefly before righting itself.

The black dragon flew at Father again, causing him to swing around and try to slam him with his tail again. However, the black dragon swooped down before twisting around underneath Father, coming up behind him. The black dragon clamped his jaws on the back of Father’s neck, next to the shoulders. Father gave another mighty roar before there was a blinding flash of golden light; I knew then that Father had used the power of the Heart, causing the black dragon to throw Father away from him with a scream pain. The castle shook heavily as Father hit it and disappeared inside.

_“FATHER!”_ I screamed in my head, but, considering the form I was in, it only came out in a long, loud, yowl catching the attention of the black dragon, causing him to head straight toward me.

I stumbled back and started to run back down the vent as the black dragon reached the outside of the vent, tore the grate off, and spat fire down after me. I ran off as fast as I could, turning and twisting, trying to outrun the fire I could feel singeing the fur off the backs of my legs and tail. As the fire began to eat up the air in the vent and it got harder to breathe, I was sure that I was going to die here. At that moment, by some miracle, I stumbled out of the vents through a broken grate. I stumbled away, gasping and coughing for breath, before collapsing down next to the wall for a moment. I stayed there for a moment, trying to catch my breath, before pushing myself up, the urgency to find the rest of my family pushing me onward.

Staying in my cat form, I trotted through the halls searching the castle for my family. Finally, I caught Mother’s scent near one of the fortified guardrooms and, spotting a couple of guards in the shadows; I shifted back into my humanoid form and ran for the door.

“Mother!” I yelled, causing the guards to jump from the shadows.

Upon recognizing me, they rushed me into the room before securing it once more. “I’m sorry, My Lady,” I heard a voice softly say. “No,” came softly on a sob and I turned toward the voices. At first all I saw was Mother and the castle physician.

“Mother?” I said softly causing her and the physician to turn toward me.

Upon seeing me Mother started to get up only to fall back down, clutching her side.

That was when I saw past her and lying there, completely still, was my younger brother Colin.

“Colin!” I exclaimed and ran to kneel by his side, taking in his pale features that caused his blue scale to painfully stand out.

“He’s not…” I began but could not finish after I saw the horrible, open, wound to his chest and the sorrowful look on Mother’s face.

“I’m so sorry, Colin,” I sobbed, leaning down to place my head on his shoulder, memories of the day he was born fifty years ago flashed through my mind; I had been so proud to be an older sister.

I had made him a promise that day to protect him and now I was swamped with guilt that I had not been there.

“I’m so sorry,” I sobbed again.

“It’s not your fault,” I heard Mother say as she placed a hand on the back of my head and something in her voice caused me to look up. What I saw stopped my heart, she was clutching her side and I could see blood slowing seeping through her fingers.

“Mother!” I exclaimed, my whole being shaking, sure I could not take losing anyone else, “You’re hurt!”

“Yes,” Mother replied, her voice soft and calm, “I am not long for this world.”

“No, Mother!” I exclaimed, feeling like my entire world was breaking apart, and launched myself into her arms, “Please, no.”

“Oh, sweetheart, there is nothing you or I can do about it when the Creator decides to call us home,” she replied sadly, “But now I need to ask you to take on a responsibility that was never supposed to be yours.”

I looked up at her and could see her strength failing as she started to sag down next to Colin.

“Mary, the Heart must always be protected and you must get out,” Mother said, looking at me, trying to convey the urgency of her message, “There is a secret passage out of the castle in the Heart’s sanctuary, the door is under the alter.”

“I want you to come with me,” I sobbed.

“It may be time for me to join your brother,” she replied with a look over at Colin’s still body, “But I will never truly leave you.”

I nodded with tears streaming down my face. Mother then took off the gold necklace she wore and placed the intricately woven knot pendant with its inlaid emerald in my hand and placed hers over it.

 “Mary of the Emerald Isle, Daughter of the Line, do you swear to protect the Heart?” Mother said firmly.

“I do,” I sobbed, realizing that she was passing the Key to me.

“Do you swear to assist the Keeper and keep the sanctuary pure?” she continued.

“I do,” I answered and then felt a strange power rush through me as a weight simultaneously descended onto my shoulders.

I opened my eyes to find Mother lying on the floor next to Colin and not breathing.

“Mother, NO!” I screamed and fell down on her sobbing.

At that moment the door opened and I swung around to find Father standing there.

“Father!” I exclaimed, throwing myself into his arms.

I pulled back and looked at Father, noticing that he was looking over my head toward Mother and Colin, looking older than his years despite his thick blond hair and golden scales on the sides of his face.

“Father, what do we do?” I asked.

“You stay here,” his voice was full of anger, “I am ending this.”

He then turned to leave and I felt fear grip my heart. Was I going to lose him like everyone else this night? Suddenly the captain of the guard stepped in front of Father. He was a tall panther demon named Liam and had been friends with Father since they were younglings.

“I can’t let you do this, Thomas,” Liam said.

“Get out of my way, Liam;” Father said in a scarily calm voice, “I am ending this.”

 “I am not letting you do this,” Liam replied, crossing his arms.

“He killed my mate and sons,” Father raged at him, “What do you expect me to do?”

“You have your daughter to protect,” Liam responded, “You go out there you will die and leave her orphaned.”

Father looked over at me and a weariness came over his features as he sagged against the wall.

“Your brother has aligned himself with hunters from the north,” Liam continued, driving his point home, “Those men are savages, you go out there again it would not be a fair fight.”

“Father,” I pleaded and he reached out placing his arm around my shoulders.

“What do we do now?” I asked and Liam looked at me sadly looking at the necklace in my hand.

“Our duty,” he replied, “Your duty is to protect the heart and my duty is to protect you.”

Father nodded sadly, looking again toward Mother and Colin.

“We will go out by the passage in the sanctuary, it’s the only one he does not know about,” Father said before the guards led us out.

We ducked in and out of passages I did not even know were there, sometimes coming upon small pockets of intruders. Finally, we reached the sanctuary and a familiar power washed over me. It was like Mother was standing there with us, telling exactly what to do.

In that moment it was like I could hear her voice telling me one more time: _I will never truly leave you._

“Thank you,” I heard Father say as he grasped Liam’s arm.

“Good luck, my friend,” Liam responded.

Finally, Father stepped up next to me and I placed Mother’s necklace around my neck, then followed her presence. With a lifted hand Mother’s barrier opened and we went inside. I had never been in the sanctuary; it was a large, round, room, covered in white marble. The heart sat in a white and gold marble shrine atop a white, marble alter. It looked like a large, uncut, emerald that glowed with a golden light. Father picked up a small, ivory box with a hinged, locking, lid and put the Heart inside. Then he opened a heavy door under the alter that I had not seen. Just then I felt the castle shake again, but Mother’s barrier held and I sent a prayer of thanks to the Creator for allowing her protection to last long enough for us to get away. Father and I then climbed through the door and into a dark tunnel.

Father lit a fireball in his hand and I followed him down the tunnel. Finally after what seemed like the longest, tensest, hours of my life we emerged through another door in a small shack. Stepping outside I could see that we were at least ten miles from the castle, which was burning bright in the night. We stood there watching our home burn for a while before I turned to Father.

“Where do we go now?” I asked, trying to come to grips with this new reality of my life.

“The Heart will lead us,” Father answered, placing an arm around my shoulders and turning me away from the sight of our burning home.

“Will we ever get to come back?” I asked as he led me away.

“I don’t know,” he replied sadly. He then transformed into his true form and knelt down. I climbed on his back and held on tight as he flew away. I looked back one last time just in time to see the last turret crumble.    


	2. Chapter 2

# Chapter 2

            We flew through the night, finally landing just outside a human village near the southeastern coast of the Isle. Then, we continued on foot for about another hour, the forest thinning the closer we got to the shore.  I pulled my dressing gown closer, trying to ward off the cold of the moonlit winter night and trying to not let the worry I felt at seeing Father limping from the wound I could see on his left leg overwhelm me.

_“Please,”_ I could not help but desperately pray, _“Please don’t let me lose him too!”_

As I struggled to control my anxiety, we finally arrived at the gates of a good-sized estate, just before dawn. The estate was nowhere the size of our now destroyed castle, but large enough to be imposing. Father hid the ivory box containing the Heart in a pocket inside his cloak, before approaching the gates.

“Father,” I breathed, overcome by relief when I realized where we were, “Is it safe to be here? What if he comes after them?”

Father paused and looked back at me.

“It will be alright,” he replied, coming back to me, placing his arm around my shoulders, and we walked toward the gates together, “We need help if we are to get away and it will up to them if they want to help.”

            I nodded, trusting his judgement, and followed him up to the gates. Just before we reached them we were stopped by a stern voice.

“Who goes there?” It called out.

Before Father or I could respond, several heavily armed guards stepped out of the shadows of the gates. Father and I stepped closer to the gates so that the light from the lanterns fell over us. Upon recognizing us the guard that called out stopped in surprise and lowered his sword.

“L… Lord Thomas,” he stammered in shock, “You’re here… You’re alright.”

“Yes, Captain,” Father replied recognizing the Captain of the guard, “Please inform your Lord and Lady that we are here.”

“Yes, My Lord,” the Captain responded, gesturing to one of the other guards who left on a run.

            We were then lead inside to a comfortable drawing room to warm ourselves by the fire as we waited. However, it turned out, we did not have long to wait. As less than two minutes after we were lead inside, running footsteps could be heard outside in the hall. I clung to Father’s side as the door was suddenly thrown open and in rushed a man and a woman. Though both were still dressed in bed clothes two things were obvious: They had both been awake for hours and they were the Lord and Lady of this estate. The man was around medium height, with a slight build, clean shaven face, chin length, light brown hair, brown eyes and pale skin. His overall appearance was of a scholar, someone who would not look out of place in a library pouring over dusty volumes.

The woman was tiny, delicate to the point of fragility, with long, white-blonde, hair, ice blue eyes, and skin so pale it was almost translucent.   As she turned her head to look at us, an almost overlooked feature became noticeable. White scales, that reflected all the colors of the rainbow when the light hit them, ran down both sides of her face marking her as a dragon.

“Aunt Colleen!” I cried upon seeing her, tears starting to form in my eyes.

Aunt Colleen placed a hand over her mouth, before we both ran the rest of the distance left between us and I was enveloped in a hug so fierce it belied her fragile appearance. Less than a minute later, Father joined us, his strong arms wrapping around us both.

“Oh, my dear girl,” Aunt Colleen whispered, holding me tight against her, “My dear brother. You’re safe… you’re safe.”

It was the tears in her voice that finally broke me. In that moment, the knowledge that we were finally safe opened the flood gates and the sense of loss, the knowledge that Mother, Patrick, and Colin were indeed never coming back, and the pain and confusion that came with it overwhelmed me. I sagged down between them and sobbed.

 “You’re alright,” Aunt Colleen whispered in a comforting tone, reaching up to stroke my hair without letting go of Father, as I leaned down to lay my head on her shoulder, as I was at least half a foot taller than her.

Finally, the three of us broke apart, but only to allow Uncle Sean to join us. He embraced me just as fiercely as Aunt Colleen while grasping Father arm. Several minutes later all four of us parted, with Aunt Colleen and I wiping our tears while Father and Uncle Sean cleared their throats and blinked their suspiciously wet eyes. After this outburst of emotion, I was left shaking with exhaustion.

“My dear,” Aunt Colleen said, seeing my exhaustion and the state of my clothes, singed and stained with blood, “You need rest.”

“Take my niece upstairs,” she then ordered a nearby maid.

I turned to Father for a second, looking for his word.

“Go,” he said, “Get cleaned up and rest. I need to talk with your Aunt and Uncle.”

I nodded and followed the maid out. Once upstairs, cleaned up and in bed, it did not take long for exhaustion to overwhelm me and I fell asleep.

*****Thomas POV*****

            Thomas watched as Mary was lead out and, when the door closed behind her, sagged back against a wall as the strong façade he had put up to support his daughter finally crumbled. He leaned against the wall, to take his weight off his injured leg, and placed a hand over his eyes, trying to control the heart wrenching anguish that threatened to overwhelm him. After a minute a gentle hand was laid on his arm and he lowered his hand to look down into his sister’s pale, blue, eyes. Looking at her it was almost difficult to believe that she was the older of the two siblings.

            One hundred years older than him, Colleen was actually first born of all three siblings, older than Ciaran by only twenty minutes being his older twin. Colleen, however, had been small and sickly upon birth. So small, in fact, that the physician was not sure she would survive. But, survive she did, though she never grew to be a very strong demon, taking about twice as long as usual to achieve her true dragon form. Since a son had been born, Colleen was not expected to be subjected to the trials and because of her poor health no one really expected her to do much other than become a spinster in her father’s house, as no one expected her to find anyone who would want to mate such a small, weak, demoness some of the courtiers would sneer behind her back.

            As much as Ciaran was praised, almost worshiped, for his power, good looks, and rare black dragon form, Colleen was scorned for size, lack of power and color. Therefore, it was a joyful day when Sean, the youngest, more scholarly, son of a local lesser shifter demon lord, came and asked for permission to court Colleen. He turned out to be just the sort of protective, gentle, and quiet demon she needed and it was not long before Sean asked to take Colleen as his mate. After the mating ceremony, Sean had moved his new mate out to his family’s southern estate as the warmer weather was better for her health.

            Because of Colleen’s health, she had never been able to bear Sean any young, so they both loved and treated Thomas’ children and the children of Sean’s brothers and sisters as their own, as Thomas’ mate was also third cousin to Sean and it was through Sean that she and Thomas had met.

“Thomas,” Colleen said, drawing him out of his thoughts and anguish, “You need to be seen to as well. Then we will talk.”

Thomas looked at his older sister and knew it would be useless to argue, because, despite of her frail appearance, she had a will of iron.

            About an hour later, all three sat in an upstairs salon with strong tea and food. Thomas’ leg had been tended to and provided with clean clothes, having decided to allow Mary to sleep as long as possible so they could talk.

“So, he’s returned?” Colleen asked rhetorically, “I am so sorry about Catherine and the boys.”

Thomas swallowed hard, memories of seeing Patrick’s lifeless body being carried from the castle like a trophy and seeing Colin and Catherine on the floor of the guard room flooding his mind. He took a deep breath as Sean, his own emotions showing in his eyes, reached out to take Colleen’s hand as she fought her emotions as well.

“What will you do?” Colleen asked once she had regained control.

“Leave the Isle,” Thomas responded

 Colleen and Sen looked at Thomas, aghast.

“Thomas,” Sean questioned, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he responded in a tone that brokered no argument, “I must protect my daughter. She is all I have left. Not only that but she is also now the Key. Though I worry for her, this is not the life she has been raised for. But, this what the Heart is leading me to do.”

Colleen nodded, having grown up learning about the Heart. She closed her eyes, trying to swallow the anguish that she felt at the thought of Thomas and Mary leaving the Isle, most likely not to return for a long time, when a distinct feeling of peace fell over her.

_“It’s alright,”_ she heard a whisper that almost sounded like her father, _“Let them go… help them.”_

Thomas, feeling the power of the Heart surge suddenly, looked up to see an odd look on Colleen’s face.

“Was that…” Colleen questioned in awe.

“The Heart,” Thomas affirmed.

“All my life,” Colleen whispered, “I always have wanted… dreamed…”

Colleen shook off the awe that swept through her as a new determination flooded through her. She knew what they needed to do.

“We will help,” Colleen, before turning to her mate, “We need to help them.”

Sean, seeing the look on his mate’s face, nodded. He knew that many people only saw her physical weakness and missed the incredible intelligence she possessed.

“You two must leave with us,” Thomas suggested, “We will head east, you two should head north to Sean’s family.”

“No,” Sean replied, knowing that Ciaran’s men would catch up to Thomas and Mary of someone did not delay them, “We will see you safely away first.”

“He will come here once he realizes that Mary and I are not in the castle,” Thomas replied, “And he will not be reasoned with. I have tried.”

“Don’t you worry about us, we will be alright,” Colleen reassured him with confidence in her tone, “And don’t you worry about my girl, she may be a Shifter like her mother, but she has the fortitude and disposition of a dragon!”

Thomas nodded, taking comfort from his older sister’s words.

“Come now,” Colleen said raising to her feet, “You need to rest.”

*****Colleen POV*****

That night, Colleen and Sean watched as Thomas and Mary prepare to leave with some servants. The plan being that they would travel in disguise the rest of the way to the coast before leaving the company, transforming to fly to the neighboring Isle of Britannia. They provided the two with clothes and several purses of gold and silver to hopefully see them through. Colleen hugged her brother and niece one last time before watching them disappear into the darkness and a terrible feeling came over her in that moment, and she knew, somehow, that it was the last time she would ever see them.  

            Colleen shook off the feeling, thinking it was just melancholy over their leaving, and headed back to the house to prepare for her and Sean’s departure. It was about two hours later, when they were about to leave, when a guard came flying in the upstairs room.

“The estate is under attack!” the guard shouted.

“What!” Colleen gasped, shocked that Ciaran’s men could have approached so swiftly.

Suddenly there was a loud roar outside and the door to the lower hall flew off its hinges as a large boulder flew in.

“Get Lady Colleen to a safe place!” Sean ordered.

“Sean!” Colleen cried, fear flooding for her mate flooding through her. Sean was a scholar not a warrior, this she knew, it was one of the things she loved about him.

“On my life, I will keep you safe!” Sean declared, coming to embrace her.

Colleen nodded before standing on her tip toes to kiss him.

“Be careful, my love,” Colleen whispered to him, “And come back to me.”

“I love you,” Sean replied, knowing that he could not promise to return.

            For hours Colleen waited in a room deep in the estate, surrounded by her guards. She could hear the distant sounds of the battle and prayed. She prayed for the men fighting to protect their home and her. But she prayed the most for Sean, as she so wanted to see him again. Suddenly, the sounds of the battle quieted and Colleen looked toward the door, hoping to hear Sean’s coded knock telling them that all was safe. Everyone in the room was tense in that moment, when suddenly the door flew open and a flood of men in black armor ran into the room. The battle was short and brutal, when it was all over her guards lay dead. Two men came forward, towering over her, and grabbed her by the arms.

“What should we do with this one?’ one asked.

“The Lady of the Manor,” the other replied, fingering the edge of her sleeve, “The General will want to talk to her.”

With that they hauled her from the room and down the hall. She turned her head, trying to unsee the dead men lining the hall, men who had died protecting her as guilt rose up in her. Finally, they forced me through the doors to the receiving room where she and Sean would greet important visitors. There, sitting in a large chair next to a window, as if he were a king, was Ciaran. Thought they were twins, Ciaran was her opposite in every way with his jet-black hair, blood red eyes and tanned skin.

 Ciaran turned and smiled at Colleen as if he were just there for a pleasant visit.

“Hello, sister,” he greeted her in a friendly tone, “Long time.”

Colleen, however, was not fooled as she knew just how cruel and vicious Ciaran could be.

“Where is Sean?” she demanded and Ciaran’s smile turned cruel as he looked at something in his hand.

“Poor Colleen,” he practically purred, “You should have chosen a stronger mate.”

Colleen started to shake. _“No,”_  She thought, anguish and denial flooding through her, _“Please no!”_

“But, then again,” Ciaran continued, taking pleasure in Colleen reaction, “Someone stronger wouldn’t have even noticed you.”

            Ciaran tossed what was in his hand at Colleen, who caught it out of reflex. She looked at it and gasped, as pain stabbed her heart. There in her hand was a ring she had given Sean for his last birthday, he never took it off and now it was covered in blood.

“How could you?” Colleen said, trying to hide her sorrow knowing that Ciaran would just enjoy it, “What do you want?”

“Come on, Colleen,” Ciaran crooned, rolling his eyes at her, “Your weak but not stupid.”

Colleen looked at him, trying to look like she had no idea what he was about, while rejoicing at the fact that Ciaran and his men had not figured out which way Thomas and Mary had gone.

“Where has our _dear_ little brother gone?” Ciaran sneered, “I know he and one of his children survived. A daughter, right?”

Colleen was not surprised at what Ciaran knew, he would not have mounted such an attack without full knowledge. He was cruel but not stupid.

“I have no idea,” Colleen answered, lifting her chin, knowing that the longer she stalled him the farther away Thomas and Mary would get.

Ciaran’s look changed in a heartbeat, no longer keeping up the façade of friendliness, and closed the distance between them before Colleen could blink. He suddenly backhanded her across the face, sending her tumbling to the floor.

“Do not lie to me, Colleen, you two have all ways been as thick as thieves,” Ciaran snarled, “As my twin you should have been on my side. You should have supported ME!”

“Supported you?” Colleen replied, getting back to her feet, spitting out some blood that now flowed from her split lip, “Thomas was chosen by the Heart to be Keeper! YOU should have supported HIM! He’s your brother!”

“It should have been ME!” Ciaran raged at her, insanity burning in his eyes, “I am the first-born son! I should have been chosen! I am stronger, better, than him! He could not even protect his own family!”

“You may have been the firstborn son,” Colleen snarled back, clenching her small fists, “But I am the FIRSTBORN! I know who I am supposed to support! The Heart spoke to ME! You are nothing but a fool!”

Ciaran glared at Colleen before drawing his sword.

“Let me tell you what should have happened to you,” he growled, looking down at his sword before suddenly lunging forward and stabbing her through the chest, “You should have been killed as a babe like the pathetic runt you are!”

Colleen gasped and slumped down as Ciaran pulled his sword out of her chest.

“Search the estate and the surrounding grounds, then burn it to the ground!” Ciaran ordered, stepping over his dying sister to stomp out of the room

            Colleen opened her hand and looked at the ring in her hand, knowing that she would be joining her beloved mate soon and as her vision darkened her sent one last prayer.

_“Please protect Thomas and Mary,”_ she prayed as her breaths became short, _“Let them have gotten away.”_

Colleen gasped one last time and then breathed no more, her half open eyes still looking toward the ring in her hand.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

******* **Ciaran POV*****

            Ciaran stomped out of the room after issuing his order, Colleen’s last words still angering him. Her words, ironically, echoing her mate’s words a from a few hours ago when Ciaran had confronted him in the courtyard.

*****Flashback*****

            The fighting had been carrying on for almost an hour when Ciaran bust through the gates in full dragon form, angered by the lack of progress that his army was making, not having expected such resistance from his weakling sister and her mate. He threw warriors from both sides out of his way before spotting the prey he was hunting: Sean, his brother-in-law, who was directing the battle from the northern part of the courtyard surrounded by some of his best warriors.

            Ciaran snarled and charged at the ring of warriors, tossing them aside as if they were nothing. Just as he lunged for Sean another demon jumped between them and threw a plume of acidic venom in his face. Ciaran stumbled back with a loud roar, thrashing his head about, trying to clear his eyes and nose.

“Everyone fall back,” he heard the demon order loudly, “Get Lord Sean to safety.”

Finally clearing the venom from his eyes, Ciaran looked to see the Captain of the Guard standing in front of him as several others quickly moved Sean toward the house.

            Ciaran snarled at the Captain, he had met this arrogant fool before hadn’t been impressed. Suddenly the Captain’s eyes began to glow bright red and his aura flared up, surrounding him in a tornado of dark green power. Ciaran roared at the Captain and shot a large fireball at him.  The Captain stumbled back when the fireball hit him, let loose a roar that matched Ciaran’s, and revealed his true form of a giant, dark, green, Basilisk demon.  Ciaran let loose an answering roar before charging at the Captain and the two huge demons tumbled down in a deadly battle.

            Ciaran wedged his claws under the Captain’s jaw, forcing his head up, to keep his large venomous fangs away from him. The large serpent wrapped his body around Ciaran’s, pinning his wings to his sides and slowly squeezing the air out of him. As Ciaran struggled to loosen the grip the Captain had around him, the serpent began to force his head downward, bringing his fangs closer and closer to Ciaran’s throat. As they fought, a large vulture demon suddenly fell from the sky, petrified, reminding Ciaran that the Basilisk’s large fangs were not the only danger, it also had a deadly, petrifying, stare.

Ciaran felt deadly anger rise up within him.

_“I am not about to be killed by an overgrown worm!”_ he thought.

Then, with another mighty roar, he mustered his strength and pushed his wings outward, breaking the hold the Captain had on him. Using this little room, Ciaran pulled his back legs up to his stomach and racked his claws down the Captain’s underbelly.  The Captain screamed in pain and let go of Ciaran completely. Taking his chance, Ciaran pulled himself out from under the Captain and flipped behind him. He then bit down hard on the back of the Captain’s neck, right at the base of the skull, driving his fangs in deep, and after one, hard, shake heard a _SNAP_ and the Captain lay still.

Ciaran threw the Captain’s dead body away from him with a deafening roar and dove after the group of warriors surrounding Sean.

“Run, Sean!” one of the warriors yelled as they turned to face Ciaran, “GO!!”

Ciaran dove into the midst of the group, blasting them all with a stream of fire and not giving any of them the chance to transform. Suddenly, above the flames, Ciaran saw the form of a giant eagle soar upward and knew it was Sean.

_“Oh no you don’t!”_ Ciaran thought with a growl, lashing out with his claws. He caught Sean’s outstretched wing, tearing a gash from shoulder to tip.

            He screamed and fell to the ground before turning back to his humanoid form. As Sean stood up, holding his injured arm, to try and defend himself, he was suddenly overrun by enemy warriors. Ciaran transformed back into his humanoid form just in time to see one of the hunters stab Sean in the abdomen.

“NO!” he yelled, running over and grabbing the hunter by the throat and lifted him off his feet, “You IDIOT! I said we needed him alive!”

The man tried to reply, but all that came out was a strangled gurgle, as he clawed at Ciaran’s hand. Ciaran threw the man away in disgust and turned his back, not even caring that the man did not move again after landing some fifty feet away.

“Hello, Sean,” Ciaran said in a slightly taunting manner, now facing his injured brother-in-law, “Been a long time.”

“Hello Ciaran,” Sean replied in a falsely calm voice, clutching at the deep wound in his stomach and not making any attempt to rise from his place kneeling on the ground, “I see you’ve made some new friends since you’ve been gone.”

“Where are they, Sean?” Ciaran demanded, having no patience for games.

“Who?” Sean asked, looking completely innocent.

Ciaran growled viciously at Sean obvious attempt to stall and stalked over to him to deliver a hard kick right to his wounded stomach.

“Don’t play games with me!” Ciaran snarled threateningly, glaring down at Sean who now lay on his back gaping for air, “Where is Thomas and his remaining whelp?!”   

“I have no idea,” Sean answered painfully, pushing himself back up right, “Even if I did, I would not tell you!”

Ciaran snarled at Sean and stepped forward onto his hand, slowly placing his weight on it. Sean tensed up in pain as Ciaran slowly placed his full weight on his hand and bent down until he was face to face with him.

“I will find them,” Ciaran snarled, grinding his foot down on Sean’s hand, “When I do, I will kill them and finally take what is rightfully mine!”

Realizing he was going to get nothing more out of Sean, Ciaran stood up and turned to walk away.

“You’re a fool, Ciaran,” Sean gasped.

Ciaran turned back to his brother-in-law slowly and, looking down at him, smirked knowingly. Sean would be dead soon, as he was bleeding too heavily for any other outcome. “Last brave words of a dying man,” Ciaran taunted, “I will make sure to relay them to my dear sister.”

“You’re a fool” Sean repeated, ignoring the taunt, “You’ve learned nothing from your family’s history. The Heart cannot be forcefully removed from its chosen Keeper. It will not allow it!”

“That’s the problem with all of you,” Ciaran snarled, stomping back to tower over the dying man, “You allow this _thing_ to dictate how you live your lives. I am the only one who knows the truth! You need to dominate it, force it to bend to your will! Such a powerful object should be used for war and conquest not for peace and prosperity!”

Sean actually started to laugh as he sagged closer to the ground.

“That mindset is the reason you were not chosen to be Keeper,” Sean replied softly before glancing over Ciaran’s shoulder.

Suddenly an infuriating smirk came to his face, one that angered Ciaran to no end as it said he knew something that no one else did.

“And you never will be!” Sean declared.

            Ciaran whipped around to see what Sean was talking about only to find a piece of paper, cut in the shape of a bird, fluttering down to the ground. Snatching it from the air, Ciaran examined it and, upon sensing the fading remnants of his brother’s aura on it, felt fury overtake him.

“What is this?!” he demanded, whipping back around to face Sean only to find him dead on the ground behind him.

Ciaran kicked the dead man in his anger at having been thwarted.

“Fine then,” he growled, bending down to take a gold ring from Sean finger.

Seeing the symbols of love and eternity engraved upon it, Ciaran smirked.

“I’ll ask her,” he said before turning toward the front door of the house.

*****End Flashback*****

            Slamming the door in his anger, Ciaran stomped down the hall fully intending to push these pathetic humans he had been forced to ally with to work faster in finding where Thomas had run off to, not wanting him to get any further away than he already was.

“General,” one hunter called, approaching him quickly from the side.

He was tall with broad shoulders, long, blond, hair and beard, and green eyes.

“What!” Ciaran snarled, causing the man to take a step back and instinctively drop his hand to the dagger on his belt.

 Ciaran sneered at the implied threat but forced himself to calm down.

_“I still need them_ ,” he reminded himself.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, admitting he needed these humans, but Thomas had too many friends with large armies for him to take on alone. It had been easy to convince these hunters to work with him and his small army of demons with the promise of power once Ciaran claimed the Heart as his.

_“Once I have the Heart,”_ he thought, starting to feel calmer, _“I will have no needed for such weaklings.”_

“What is it?” Ciaran asked the hunter in a far calmer voice.

The hunter paused for a moment, seemingly taken aback by Ciaran’s quick change of mood and demeanor, before answering.

“No servants have been found anywhere in the estate,” the hunter nervously reported, “but these were found in the cellars among refuse headed for the incinerator.”

The hunter showed Ciaran several items of filthy clothing, including a grey dressing gown and long white night dress stained with blood.

“This had better not be all you have to report,” Ciaran snarled, looking at the clothing with disgust.

“N-no, sir,” the hunter stammered, “A couple of our outlying troops caught a messenger pigeon headed north. It was carrying this.”

The hunter handed Ciaran a small, rolled up, piece of parchment and waited while Ciaran to read it.

“Gather the troops,” Ciaran ordered, a triumphant smile spreading across his face, “We are leaving.”

“North?” the hunter asked expectantly.

“No,” Ciaran answered, crumbling the message in his hand, “This is a trick. Sean always thought he was so smart. He wants me to believe that he sent Thomas to his Father.”

“So where?” the hunter asked, confused.

“South,” Ciaran answered, “Sean has always been a pathetic weakling that hid behind his father’s military might and that would make it the obvious choice. He sent them to his oldest brother instead.”

            Ciaran left the house to muster his troops and within a half an hour was ready to leave. A cruel smile played over Ciaran’s face as he cast a last glance over his shoulder at the now burning estate. It had taken many years of planning to get to this point, carefully removing all other heirs to the Heart, and now his ultimate goal was finally within reach. The Heart would be his and anyone that dared to stand in his way would pay the ultimate price.

***** Mary POV*****

            We had been traveling for about an hour when Father and I split off from the estate servants. It was the first of several splits as the large group would break up, with only a small portion of the group heading to Uncle Sean’s father. I took a deep breath and tried to swallow my worry, trying to remember that this was exactly how Uncle Sean and Father had planned.

*****Flashback*****

“We are sending all the household servants with you,” Uncle Sean explained.

We were taking out supper in the upstairs salon as Father and Uncle Sean planned our path to the coast.

“That will get them out of harm’s way and make sure the other ruling lords know what’s happened.” Uncle Sean continued.

“Have you sent out the pigeons?” Father asked.

“Not yet,” Uncle Sean answered, spreading a map out on the table before us, “I will send the one going south right after you leave and the one headed north shortly before we leave.”

This last comment caught my attention from where I had been sitting, quietly listening, at the other end of the table with Aunt Colleen preparing our packs.

“Won’t the one headed north be caught?” I asked.

Uncle Sean looked up at me and smiled. “Yes, that is the intent,” He answered.

“It’s a trick!” I exclaimed, “You want them to think we are heading back north.”

A look of pride came over his face as I figured it out. Unlike most of the men at court, Uncle Sean never patronized me or acted like I should not ask questions or understand things simply because I was a girl.

“Yes,” he replied, “The servants will be carrying the real messages.”

 After this, Aunt Colleen called me back to the packs and Uncle Sean and Father went back to planning.

“The servants will separate from you here” Uncle Sean said as he gestured to a spot on the map, “And once you reach the coast, I want you to send this back before you leave the Isle.”

Uncle Sean held out a piece of paper cut in the shape of a bird to Father, who looked confused.

“What is it?” Father asked, gently taking it in his hand.

“A form of demon puppetry,” Uncle Sean replied, “While significantly weaker than a traditional puppet, it will be strong enough to return here and thereby letting us know you got away safely.”

            Father nodded and stowed the puppet away before turning back to the map. He and Uncle Sean went over the plans for another half an hour before the Captain of the Guard knocked on the door.

“It’s time,” the Basilisk demon said simply upon entering the room. Aunt Colleen and I rose from our seat and joined the men, it was time for Father and me to leave this temporary safe haven.

*****End flashback*****

            I stood off to the side, having already said my goodbyes, as Father made sure that the servants knew what they were to do and where to go. I kept my cloak pulled closely around me, not just because of the cold but because I was still very uncomfortable with the clothes my aunt had insisted I wear: a long, dark green, belted tunic and close fitting, black, trousers tucked into high, leather, flat-bottomed, boots.

“Heavy dresses with long skirts are not very practical while traveling,” Aunt Colleen had told me.

“Ready?” Father asked, walking back over to me, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I nodded and continued to follow him down the trail.

            We hiked another thirty minutes before I was able to hear the waves on the beach that my family had spent many a lazy summer day. Memories almost overwhelmed me for a minute as the beach came into view. Memories of playing in the surf with my brothers, of quiet picnics with Mother and of learning about the different sea creatures from Aunt Colleen and Uncle Sean. I stopped for a moment to try and catch my composure, as now was not the time to mourn. Father, noticing that I had stopped, turned to check and me and I could see tears in his eyes as well. He came back and placed an arm around my shoulder.

“Come,” he said and lead me onto the beach, stopping just briefly to take the puppet from his pocket, infuse a small bit of his aura into it and released it to head back to the estate.

 A few minutes we were both transformed, him into his true dragon form and me into a Peregrine Falcon, one of my favorite bird forms, and we left the Isle behind, heading for the neighboring Isle of Britannia. I cast one last look over my shoulder, saying goodbye to my homeland and praying that someday we would be able to come back.


End file.
